


Wear My Heart on Your Sleeve

by balancingbookact



Series: Teen Danbert [4]
Category: Re-Animator (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Herbert's like 'ok you now', M/M, clothes sharing is a favourite trope of mine, dan is whipped for herbert wearing his clothes, it's still the 70s yahoo, teen danbert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:22:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28789398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/balancingbookact/pseuds/balancingbookact
Summary: Dan loves it when Herbert wears his clothes, so when Herbert challenges him to return the favour Dan is more than happy to.
Relationships: Daniel Cain/Herbert West
Series: Teen Danbert [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2011393
Comments: 8
Kudos: 24





	Wear My Heart on Your Sleeve

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to anyone who's commented on these lil fics, I'm so glad you've enjoyed reading them as much as I love writing them! Sometimes we just need no stakes teens in love. This one is tied to one of my fav tropes which is 'wearing each other's clothes', esp if one person is REALLY into it. 
> 
> This fic takes place probably the latest in the timeline so far. They've been dating a few months at this point.
> 
> I've also decided that Dan and Herb's high school colours are green and white, and that their school mascot is a sugar glider :)

“You’re staring at me.”

“Hm?” Dan half-rolled on the bed, twisting his legs and arching his back until he fell in a boneless heap, and smiled lazily. “Whaaaat? That’s crazy talk.” He kept on staring.

Herbert shot him an unimpressed look over his shoulder but didn’t comment further. He was sat at Dan’s desk in his swivel chair, wearing only his boxers, socks, and Dan’s baseball jersey. His actual clothes were currently hanging from the curtain rod in an effort to air out the wrinkles and creases.

“There’s nothing more distracting than a wrinkled dress shirt,” Herbert had said when he’d picked Dan’s shirt off the floor and slipped it over his head.

Not that Dan was complaining. He loved the boxy fit of his clothes on Herbert’s smaller frame. How the sleeves pooled around his elbows. How the hem fell to his hips, just shy of the pale skin of his slim legs. How the collar was too wide, dipping around his collarbone and exposing his neck. If Dan were a vampire he imagined he’d be very tempted by that neck.

“The thing is,” Herbert went on, scribbling away in his notebook, “is that I can actually feel you staring at me.”

Dan laughed, felt it rumble low in his chest. He rolled onto his stomach and propped his elbows up. “Am I not allowed?”

Herbert spun around in the chair again, one leg tucked up, one down on the floor, steering him with his big toe. “I didn’t say that. Besides, I can’t exactly stop you from looking.”

“You got that right,” Dan said, trying his best to look alluring and flirtatious.

Herbert rolled his eyes but he was smiling. Dan swung round til he was sitting on the edge of the mattress and leaned forward, grabbing the armrests just below Herbert’s fingertips. He yanked the chair, pulling Herbert toward him until he was nestled between Dan’s legs, his knee pressed to Dan’s inner thigh.

Dan tipped his head until he was batting his eyelashes up at Herbert, their noses inches apart. “Hey there.”

“Hello,” Herbert replied, lifting his leg off the floor and folding it over Dan’s on the bed.

Dan rubbed his hand up and down Herbert’s calf. He squeezed his ankle over his thick, grey and white striped socks, then trailed up and palmed at the curve of his knee. “I just love looking at you,” he said, nosing at Herbert’s jaw. “You look so good in this.” He tugged at the hem of his jersey, catching a flash of Herbert’s pale belly. “Really, you should keep it. You look way better in it than me. So cute.”

Herbert immediately began to pull away. “I’m _not-“_

“Sorry, sorry!” Dan cooed, pulling him back in until his arms were securely locked around Herbert. “What I meant to say was, so handsome. Distinguished. _Academic.”_

“Alright, Dan, don’t over-do it,” Herbert drawled, but when Dan kissed him he kissed back.

And just like that they were making out.

Twenty minutes later Herbert slid out from under Dan’s arm and off the bed, leaving the warm cocoon of blankets the two of them had been baking in. Dan yawned and sat up, trying shake his brain back into place, which was a difficult thing with Herbert standing there in only his underwear. Dan blinked blearily at Herbert’s bare back, appreciating the sight of all that skin.

He wanted to run his hands over the round knobs of his spine, dig his fingers into his dark nest of hair and muss it up even more, kiss along the trail of hickeys he’d left along his neck, just low enough to be hidden by his collar and save him a scolding. He wanted a lot of things. But Herbert never liked to stay naked for long and would always throw on the closest clothes available to him the moment they were done (more like, the moment _Herbert_ decided they were done) rolling around.

Herbert reached for his rumpled dress shirt, bunched up beside Dan’s jeans on the floor.

“Hey, uhh- Why don’t you…wear that one again?” Dan said, flicking his eyes over to his jersey, which was hanging off the end of the bed.

Herbert followed his gaze and rolled his eyes. “Honestly, you’re impossible.”

“What?” Dan protested. “I meant it when I said you look good in it.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Herbert said dryly, buttoning up his shirt. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m not your bitch.”

Dan reeled back, the words landing on him like a hockey puck between the eyes. “What? When did I ever say that?”

“You don’t need to say it,” Herbert said, picking his glasses off the bedside table and slipping them on. “It’s a thing. How many girls have you seen at school wearing their boyfriend’s letterman jackets? How many girls have worn _that_ before me?” He pointed accusingly at the discarded jersey.

Dan sighed, schooling his features into something placating. “Herbert, come on. Lots of guys do it because it’s-“ He went to say ‘cute’ but Herbert’s glare was already sharp enough, so he changed tactics. “It’s just…nice. It makes you feel close to the person you’re with.”

“How would you know?” Herbert asked, raising an eyebrow. “Something tells me you’ve never gone out wearing a pink feather boa.”

Dan tipped his head to the side. “I don’t think I’ve ever dated a girl who wears pink boas. Or feathers.”

Herbert clicked his tongue. “You know what I mean. You’ve never worn anyone’s name on your back.”

Herbert cast his eyes to the floor, his mouth set in a firm line, but his brow creased. Dan softened at Herbert’s arms crossed tight across his chest, at his fingers worrying at the fabric round his elbow. Though he fought off everything with snarls and hisses with enough heat they could burn steel, Herbert had his insecurities. He would never admit them so the course of their relationship relied on Dan picking up on these cues and deciphering Herbert’s actions.

Dan put his feet to the floor and reached out to him. He took Herbert’s wrists in his hands and gently unwound his arms, just as he’d done that day he’d first asked him out, and pulled Herbert close to him. Herbert went without resistance but still didn’t look at Dan, his eyes were fixed on some indiscriminate spot on the wall.

“Herb,” Dan said and Herbert curled his mouth at the nickname. “I didn’t realise it bothered you that much. You don’t have to wear it. I mean, you look good in anything.”

“It doesn’t _bother_ me,” Herbert replied. His words were clipped short, like this whole conversation was stupid, like talking about his feelings was stupid. “I don’t care when we’re alone. I just wonder if you’d…Hm. Do the same.”

A laugh burst from Dan’s throat. Herbert stiffened in his grasp but he just hadn’t been expecting it.

“You think it’s funny?” Herbert said stiffly. “Beneath you, is it?” He started to pull away from Dan but Dan scrabbled to hold onto him, gripping his shirt and keeping him flush against him.

“No, no! Herbert, no, wait.” Herbert did wait, but Dan could feel the tension in his muscles. He slid hie hands down to grip Herbert’s waist and rub circles into his hipbones. “I don’t think anything like that. I’d have no problem with that at all.”

“Really.” Herbert didn’t sound convinced.

“Really,” Dan assured him, pulling Herbert closer until he was stood between Dan’s legs. Herbert looked down at him, sitting on the edge of the mattress, and Dan was very aware that Herbert was mostly clothed while he was mostly naked. “I’d love to wear your sweater vests or your Mathletes jacket. It’s just…”

“What?”

“Well.” Dan squeezed his narrow waist. “I just don’t think they’d fit me.”

It was a few days later when Dan came home to find a package waiting for him on his bed. It was about the size of shoebox, sitting innocently for Dan to unwrap. He frowned, flipping the package over and finding no return address. He rarely got any kind of mail addressed to him, even less a parcel the size of this one. It wasn’t close to his birthday or Christmas so he wasn’t expecting anything.

Still frowning, he pulled the cardboard open and tipped the contents out. He saw the familiar colours and was still confused. Then he turned it over, glimpsed the back, and laughed, his whole chest full and light with it.

Dan spotted Herbert waiting by the bus stop as soon as he rounded the corner. He walked to him but didn't rush; Dan liked taking these small moments to look at Herbert when he didn’t know he was being observed, him in his natural state. He peered out at everything with pursed lips and narrowed eyes, flicking his gaze down to his watch and tapping his foot in a steady, impatient rhythm. He was wearing the butter-yellow sweater vest that Dan loved so much, the wool bunching over his torso like a soft mustard cloud.

Herbert finally looked up at the sound of Dan’s footsteps. “There you are. And two minutes late, might I-“ He broke off as he took Dan in, his eyes bulging behind his glasses. Dan stifled a snigger as Herbert flapped his mouth open and closed a few times before shaking his head and stammering out, “Wha-? Why are you wearing _that?”_

Dan looked down at himself, at the jacket Herbert had gotten him. It was a perfect copy of Herbert’s mathletes jacket, only two sizes bigger. The fabric was the same green and white as his baseball jersey, with a little insignia of their school mascot, the sugar glider, over his heart. He’d traced the letters on the back with his finger- WEST -before slipping it on, over his t-shirt and heading out to meet Herbert at the frozen yoghurt shop they frequented.

“What?” Dan asked. “I’m not allowed to wear it? You did get it for me, you know.”

“I _know,”_ Herbert snapped back, one hand curled around his chin, his fingers spread out and mashed over his mouth. His eyes kept flickering over Dan, seemingly unable to stay in one spot. “I just. Didn’t expect you to wear it out in public.” He broke his gaze off of Dan then, to look at their surroundings, as though checking for eavesdroppers. People walked about and around them without notice but Herbert’s shoulders were still tense.

Dan smiled and reached out to pull Herbert’s hand off his face. “Hey, come on, no one at school ever comes around here. Everyone else will just think it’s mine.” He pitched his voice low so only Herbert could hear him. “Only we know…you know?”

Herbert swallowed and nodded. “I do know.”

“Good!” Dan bumped his elbow to Herbert’s soft, woolly chest. “Then come on. I’m craving some wild berry mix.”

Herbert cracked a smile in answer. “Sure, whatever you say, _West.”_

A thrill shot through Dan at that, pulling him up short. He staggered, “Jesus, Herbert…”

Herbert hummed a laugh behind his teeth as he pulled Dan by the sleeve after him. They pushed through the door, the little bell chiming above their heads as they stepped out of the muggy, night air, into the cool air conditioning.

“Well, you know, it does look rather good on you. Not that you don’t look good in everything, but this especially. Or whatever it is you said earlier. Things always sound better when you say them.” Dan felt his face heat up and was just glad that Herbert wasn’t looking at him. He was probably red as a cherry and looked like an idiot. But if Herbert kept saying things like that he thought he could tolerate it.

As Herbert perused the flavours (which Dan thought was moot, as Herbert always chose mint-chocolate, like it was a religion) Dan thought about Herbert’s words from earlier and decided that he didn’t mind the feeling of wearing someone’s name on his back, so long as that someone was Herbert. He’d be ‘West’ any day.

He wanted to reach out and hold Herbert’s hand but knew that was impossible so he settled for stuffing his hands in the pockets of his boyfriend’s jacket and smiled at him instead. He could hold him later. They always had later.

**Author's Note:**

> I have drawn this concept multiple times on my Tumblr crocodile-queen and over on my twitter @ms_miskatonic. Kudos and comments are appreciated! Also, if you have any requests or ideas for this au feel free to send them my way!


End file.
